


Basic Becky

by MjolnirMjolfar



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: Basic Becky, Donuts, F/M, Oral Sex, Pumpkin Spice Latte, basic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 20:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15647946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MjolnirMjolfar/pseuds/MjolnirMjolfar
Summary: My normal job is killing people, but sometimes there is a request for torture, maiming, or other light stuff. This job is unlike any other I have taken, but I could sense the desperation and knew that I should break tradition and come to the rescue.I've been asked to fuck the basic out of Becky.





	Basic Becky

My normal job is killing people, but sometimes there is a request for torture, maiming, or other light stuff. This job is unlike any other I have taken, but I could sense the desperation and knew that I should break tradition and come to the rescue. 

I’ve been waiting in Fivebucks Coffeeshop for a while, and even though I didn’t receive a description, I know when my target has arrived:

She has bleach blonde hair with dark roots, a denim mini skirt, black leggings, brown UGGly boots, and a shirt that says “Namaste in Bed”. She orders a Pumpkin Spice Latte. I wait for her to take a selfie with her drink before I approach her.

“Oh. Em. Gee. It’s Deadpool! Glad you could make it! Where’s your PSL?”

“Um, what?” I shrug.  
She lifts her drink and rolls her eyes. This is the most severe case I’m ever seen.  
I’ve been asked to fuck the basic out of her. 

I’ve saved the city and the world countless times, but I’m not sure if I can accomplish this task. She staring at me. I gotta get some more information and lay the charm on her.

“So you know me” I drag my hands down my black and red chest, “what should I know about you?”

She smiles, ready to talk at length about her vapid life:  
“My name’s Rebecca but my friend’s call me--”  
“Becky.” I interrupt.  
“Oh. Em. Gee. How’d you know? Well anyway, I work from home, unless Daddy says I need to ‘come to a meeting’--”  
“Wait- why the air quotes?” I ask.  
“You know. Everyone always says I need to come into the office and that ‘we don’t have work from home’, but really it’s because they don’t accept my emotional support chicken.”  
“Where is the chicken now?”  
“Um Eye. Dee. Kay. … wait! It ran away a few days ago, but I bet my neighbors stole it because you know.”  
“What do I know?”  
She scrunches her face and loudly whispers, “They’re BLACK”  
Ditsy, racist, and basic. She’s too far gone for me to challenge her, so I just say “oh”. But before the silence can take over, I seductively say:  
“So this is kinda forward, but do you wanna take an sUber back to your place, crack open a La Croix and tell me all the things you love about fall?”  
Her face glows: “Totes!” And she summons a sUber. We talk- well- she talks and I pretend to listen, until the Subaru car service pulls up.  
She confirms our destination with the driver, and I get excited thinking about visiting my old stomping grounds. I tell her about my favorite graffiti murals, bullet holes in signs, and tacos from carts in the neighborhood. Her expression is blank. She must be totally unobservant.

As we approach the destination, I see that everything I loved and remembered is gone- replaced by gluten free bakeries, yoga studios, and the same ugly, boxy architecture. The situation is worse than I thought. 

“You like my apartment building? There’s a gym, a club house, a pool, a dog park, free bicycle rentals, and a parking garage. Best of all this building has a Diamond Environmental rating, so you can use as much water or energy as you want and it still saves the planet.”  
“Uh. I don’t think that’s how that works.” I mumble, but she continues.  
“My apartment is a microstudio”  
“As in smaller than a regular studio?”  
“Yeah, but with in-unit washer/dryer”, she pouts “Daddy capped my rent at $2500… cheap bastard”  
“You pay over $2k to live in a fancy closet?”  
“Please. I’m a minimalist. I don’t need a bunch of stuff to feel good about myself”  
She opens the door. The space is about the size of single car garage. There is a kitchenette along the right side, plenty of cabinets, and a small living area with a sofa and a large window almost the covering the entire far side of the room.

“No curtains? No bed? Are your neighbors voyeurs?” I’m starting to get excited about this job.

“Voyeurs? No, they are Jewish.” She wrinkles her forehead.  
I sit on the sofa and play up the neglected guest role: “Oooh, I’m parched. Could really go for that La Croix about now.”

She grabs two from the fridge, opens them, and puts them on the coffee table in front of me.  
“Hey Becky, why don’t you sit on my lap and we can talk about the first thing that pops up?”  
“Ok!” She plops down on my lap, serious.  
I chuckle and lift up my mask so I can drink the La Croix. She doesn’t flinch when she sees my scarred face.  
“Oh that’s disappointing.” I say after taking a sip.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Everyone raved about how good this stuff is, but it tastes like when your foot falls asleep.”  
Becky pauses and then responds: “Yeah, I love that sensation.”  
There’s something about that weird response that wakes up Not-so-LittlePool.  
“Ding! Someone’s ready”  
“Ready for what?” I smile sweetly.  
“Oh cut the shit, Deadpool. I know why you’re here.”  
“Why is that?”  
“You came for my legendary fellatio” She whispers the last word.  
I’m genuinely surprised. I didn’t think she had a talent, being basic and all.  
“What makes it legendary?”  
“Shhh! Enough talking. Take off your pants, close your eyes, and I’ll show you something amazing.”  
I oblige her, taking my shoes, tactical belt, and stretchy pants off. I kick the stuff over to the side, sit back down, and wait for the “legendary skills”.  
“Hmm. You’re a little thicker than I expected.”  
I smile. “Is that a problem?”  
“Nope. I’ll just open it up some more.”  
I frown with my eyes still closed as she slides a soft ring over my dick. World’s weirdest cock ring?  
She starts licking the tip before humming, “Mhmm … glaze”  
“Odd name for pre-cum.” I quip.  
I can’t believe this basic bitch put a donut on my dick. I wonder when she’ll eat it.  
She sucks the head a bit. I relax once it’s clear she’s experienced enough that she won’t scrape me with her teeth. Then I start to goad her a bit:  
“Mhm, Becky. This is nice, too bad you can’t go deeper.”  
She squeezes my balls in response and takes me into her mouth until I feel her squish the donut with her face and tickle my pubes with her nose.  
“FUCK!”  
Not gonna lie, I only last about 8 more of those strokes before I give her my glaze. She holds me deep in her mouth as my hips buck. Then she slips her mouth and the donut off my dick, takes a bite, and cleans me with her tongue.  
She offers me a bite of the donut, and shoves it in her mouth when I decline.  
“That was pretty good. Thanks” I smirk at her.  
“Yeah, I was a cheerleader in high school, so I lost my gag reflex.”

I don’t know if that’s a reference to oral sex or an eating disorder so I skip over a response.  
“Well, I’m surprised you swallowed. I had you pegged as a spitter.”  
“Well Cosmo said there is protein in it, so free protein shake?” She shrugs.  
Oh course Cosmo said that.  
“Well there’s more where that came from, if you need a workout recovery.” I wink at her from behind the mask.  
“Bye, Felicia!” She giggles.

Ugh! Random, and out of context Black slang. Time to finish her and get out of here.  
I give her a playful smack on the ass.  
“Ow! That’s my back!”  
“Sorry” I say before aiming a little lower.  
“Ow! That’s my thigh!”  
I caress the area between her back and thigh, but I don’t find any ass. Oh well.  
“My bad, Becky. Let me make it up to you.” I stick my tongue out quickly and continue: “I’ve been told my face makes a fine seat. You should try it.”  
She looks unsure. “I’ve never tried it this way. Can’t I just lay on my back?”  
“There will be plenty of time for you to be on your back. If you don’t like it, we’ll change positions.”  
She responds by kicking off her boots (no socks), sliding off her leggings and hitching her skirt to her stomach. Her panties are PINK by Valerie’s Secret, and her bikini line is an angry red color and waxed. She slides the panties off in an easy motion to reveal a small strip of hair, (maybe a landing strip for a fly?) and a single rhinestone at the base of the strip.  
“You vagazzled yourself?” I smile, holding back a laugh.  
“Bling-bling!” She chirps. I let the laugh out.  
“Let me taste your ‘affluent lifestyle’” I slide my body onto the floor, with just my head resting against the cushion of the sofa. She cautiously stands over me. I grab the sides of her thighs and pull her down. Her scent is overwhelming floral. I give a lazy stroke from the bottom to the top of her folds before asking:  
“What do you douche with?”  
I see her blush extend to her thighs. “Rose Garden by Summer’s D-Bag”  
It feels like I’m licking a funeral arrangement. I’ll have to let her know that it fucks with her pH, not now though. The flower scent over her earthy taste gives me cemetary vibes, so I start humming a basic tune I know she’ll like. She’s trying to figure out the song as my tongue is vibrating against her lips.  
“Oh. Em Gee! Is that ‘Sugar, We’re Going Down’? That’s my fave Fall Out Boy song.”  
I stiffen my tongue and penetrate her as deeply as I can. My nose presses against her clit. Her talking is interrupted by a moan, and she makes whimpering noises as I tongue fuck her.  
As she gets closer to the end, I grab her thighs to keep her from wriggling away. I suck her clit and she moans:  
“J-j-juice Cleanse. T-t-taylor Swift. FFFFFOREVER 21!” And twitches on my face. Her body spasms longer than I expected. I gently move her longwise onto the sofa. Her eyes have rolled back into her head and she’s still convulsing.  
“Becky? Becky? Are you okay?” Her shaking begins to slow. Her eyes close and she goes still.  
Shit! I didn’t mean to kill her. Now I won’t get paid. I pull up my pants and lock my tactical belt on, as I think about where to dump her body. She grunts and her eyes flutter open.

“Becky? You alright?”  
“Becky? My name’s Rebecca.” She focuses on you for a moment. “Deadpool? What are you doing here?”  
“You were going to let me borrow your box set of Sex and the City.” I lie.  
“Ugh! That’s so basic. I wouldn’t own that.” She scowls. I point to her collection of books and movies and she screams.  
“The Notebook? Keeping Up with the Kardashians? How long have I been basic?”  
“Shh Shh Shhhhh.” I put my finger in front of my mouth. “It’s all over now.”

She sits up, evaluating her life. I walk to the door, readying to collect my payment and start the next job.

**Author's Note:**

> Please give feedback. Was it smutty enough? Too smutty? Too fluffy?  
> Hard to read?


End file.
